


Friends Like These

by Crystalshard



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalshard/pseuds/Crystalshard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, Sam swears, he will hear the former Winter Soldier sneak up on him. </p>
<p>(AKA the My Friend Is A Dumbass Superhero club.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends Like These

Sam Wilson cradled the cup of coffee possessively between chilly hands, reveling in the comfort of the barely-padded chair under him and the relief of actually being able to sit down in something other than a car or a plane. 

On the opposite side of the table, another man waved a jam pastry descriptively. ". . . I mean, he's my best friend, but I need to teach him how to shoot. Couldn't even hit a spotlight at fifty yards. Take away his targeting computer, and he's . . . yeah." Colonel James Rhodes lowered the pastry and took a thoughtful bite, seemingly oblivious to the stares from the other patrons of the tiny roadside coffee shop. Sam, in a moment of detached curiosity, wondered why Rhodey wasn't worried about cake crumbs gumming up the gleaming War Machine armor. 

To prevent his brain from starting to speculate about the necessary cleaning procedures (his old wings had needed ridiculous amounts of PX-24), he launched into Steve's most recent Tale of Heroism. "Had a real old-fashioned dust-up the other day. Wasn't even Hydra, just a bunch of dumbasses from one of the local gangs . . ."

Sam had just got to the most interesting part, where he'd swooped down and picked up the apparent leader of the thugs by his ankles, ". . . and let me tell you, that guy was WAY lighter than Steve. Man's gotta be made of nothing but muscle." 

"He used to be lighter." 

Sam jumped, swore, then glared at the man in the baseball cap and long-sleeved jacket. "How did . . . I was listening for the bell over the door!" 

Bucky shrugged, the eternal wariness in his eyes leavened a little by a grim sort of humor as he pulled a chair to the side of the table and sat. "I came in through the kitchen." 

Sam rolled his eyes, then took a sip of his mostly-hot coffee and spared a glance for Rhodey as well. "Asshole. You coulda warned me." 

Rhodey managed to keep a straight face, the corner of his mouth barely twitching. "I wanted to see if you'd spot him this time." 

"I will. One of these days." He glared down into the depths of his coffee mug for a moment, then shoved it to his left. Bucky blinked at the beverage so suddenly in front of him, but didn't immediately react to it as a threat. Progress, slow but sure. "Here. Looks like you need it more than me." 

There was a pause, a hard look that softened into a bemused blink, and then Bucky nodded slowly. "Thank you." The words no longer sounded quite as foreign as they once had in his mouth.

There was comfortable silence for a moment as Bucky sampled the coffee, his forehead wrinkled in the déjà vu that was his fragmented memories firing up a few neurons. 

"Steve was smaller," Bucky repeated, almost to himself. "I . . . I was in another uniform, once. Brown? Khaki?" He wrestled with it for a moment, then shook his head. "I was in an alley, and . . . there was this big guy. A bully. Steve didn't like bullies. He was trying to hurt Steve, and I stopped him. Threw him out. We were going somewhere . . . Steve barely came up to my chin." 

Sam and Rhodey nodded, and Bucky's mouth twitched like it was trying to smile and had forgotten how. Sam's own lips curled up in response.

The momentary feeling of camaraderie was interrupted by the strident sound of a text message, and Sam grabbed at his pocket to check it. "Damn. That's Steve. Looks like we'll have to cut this one short, guys." 

Bucky stood, sliding out from his seat without shifting the chair even a millimeter. "I'll go, then. And Wilson . . ."

". . . don't tell Steve you were here. Got it." Sam flicked a lazy salute in Bucky's direction, not even bothering to look up from his phone. The former Winter Soldier nodded stiffly, the chime of the bell over the door announcing his probably over-dramatic exit.

"So. Same time next week?" Rhodey asked, standing up with a whine of servos.

"Sure," Sam said absently. "I'll text you the place. Hey, do you think we could get Sif to join in? I'd love to hear her stories about Thor."


End file.
